


pop rock dreams & lemon wishes

by ShirosRedKnight (SweetFanfics)



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Reminiscing, a quiet moment in between canon, melancholic and tender
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-27
Updated: 2016-12-27
Packaged: 2018-09-12 17:34:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,247
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9082543
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SweetFanfics/pseuds/ShirosRedKnight
Summary: “Hey Shiro…d'you think we’ll ever see Earth again?" “Of course we will,” he closes the gap between them by planting a hand on Keith’s knee and squeezing it.  “How can you be so sure?” Keith asks, quieter. Shiro opens his mouth and nothing comes out. He tries again. More nothing. He takes his hand back, feeling slightly ashamed and embarrassed.





	

**Author's Note:**

> One min I’m like “hey lets watch Mama while waiting for the chicken to thaw.” the next I see this on twit and I’m banging this out. 
> 
> [RT on twitter](https://twitter.com/kurageclear/status/776317570219663360) or [reblog on tumblr ](http://hachidraws.tumblr.com/post/150611748562/hey-shirodyou-think-well-ever-see-earth)and show the artist @hachidraws some love!

“Hey Shiro…” Keith hesitant voice pulls Shiro’s gaze to his left, away from the scenic sight they're enjoying while seated side-by-ide on the bench before the floor to ceiling window. “D’you think we’ll ever see Earth again?”

 

There’s a shocking amount of vulnerability not only in the question but also radiating off Keith. Neon bright warnings flash at Shiro: the curve of Keith's back, the way he’s tightly holding onto his wrist, the downcast eyes highlighted by furrowed brows. They're bright enough to giving the space storm outside the Castle a run for its money. 

 

He craves reassurance and Shiro’s first reaction, automatic and visceral, is to give Keith that. “Of course we will,” he closes the gap between them by planting a hand on Keith’s knee and squeezing it. Hopes that Keith will feel it through his armor. 

 

“How can you be so sure?” Keith asks, quieter. Like he’s scared of voicing his doubts.

 

Shiro opens his mouth and nothing comes out. He tries again. More nothing. He takes his hand back, feeling slightly ashamed and embarrassed.

 

After a long moment of awkward silent, Shiro murmurs, “I like to think we will. That’s what I want to believe.” 

 

Shiro believes in the connection between his hopes and dreams and their impact on his actions. The more firmly he believes in something, the harder he’ll work towards making it happen. And he believes with all his being that one day… _one day_ …

 

The pensive cloud hanging around Keith darkens, rumbles with the promise of lightning and rain. He brings his knees up, arms wrapping around his legs before Keith props his chin on the perch. Continues to stare at the pink, purple clouds of dust hovering in the twinkling skies.

 

Again, the desire to comfort Keith crops up. So Shiro shifts closer, letting his legs dangle off the edge of his seat. “Tell me what you miss about Earth.”

 

A heavy sigh falls out. “ _Too_  much,” Keith confesses. “I miss the shack. I miss my books. I miss getting on my bike and just driving off into the desert. I miss pizza. I miss cheap Chinese food. I miss _music_.” 

 

The list is long and extensive, causing Keith’s voice to drop with increasing misery. So much so that Shiro can’t stop himself from shifting closer, pressing snug against Keith’s side. Pets Keith’s hair when the younger man buries his face in between his knees. That is how they remain, for many long, long minutes. Shiro debates taking his glove off so that he can feel Keith’s soft strands sliding through his fingers. The air vents hum contemplatively overhead, coughing softly before stopping all together. Shiro guesses Coran's doing the usual maintenance on it.

 

“What about you?”

 

“Hmm?” Shiro asks, almost missing the whispered question.

 

Keith turns his head, cheek pillowed against his knee as he stares pensively at Shiro. “What do you miss about Earth?”

 

Once more, Shiro opens his mouth and nothing comes out. But not for the lack of an answer. Rather because… the truth is… he doesn’t _exactly_  miss Earth. Well, he _does_  but… probably not in the way Keith’s expecting.

 

The thing is… Shiro misses Earth terribly every day because he sees flashes of it in Keith. 

 

He feels the heat of the desert sun falling on the back of his neck when Keith smirks, accepting whatever challenge Lance has thrown at him. Shiro can taste cool spring water on his dry lips when Keith will laugh with Hunk as they joke around. He can feel humidity pressing down on him, stealing his breath away, when Keith and Allura are in deep discussion over how Keith can further his bond with Red. He can feel snowflakes melting on his tongue when Keith and Pidge are excitedly exchanging conspiracy theories together, ignoring the increasingly panicked expressions on Hunk and Lance’s faces.

 

Shiro remembers cakes, chocolates, and comfort food whenever he takes hold of Keith’s elbow and kisses him, feeling happy and warm. He thinks of spicy ramen or Indian curry when Keith bites into his bottom lip and huskily tells him to lie down. Shiro _craves_  a cool glass of lemonade, a perfect balance of tart and sweet, _every time_  Keith glances over at him and smiles that soft smile of his.

 

“Too much,” Shiro winds up echoing, burying his answer in Keith’s hair. Feeling a little embarrassed at the possibility that he may be asked to share details about his sappy thoughts. Keith teases him about that enough as it is. 

 

Keith readjusts, leaning heavily against Shiro before resting his head against the older paladin’s chest. “What’s the first thing you’ll do when we go back?”

 

“Kiss you.”

 

The laugh his answer earns makes Shiro’s stomach burn, like he’d just chugged an entire bottle of pop down. “After that?” 

 

Shiro thinks about it, staring at one particular cloud that looks like a mouse with a stubbly tail, “Probably ask where the nearest burger joint is and eat the biggest burger they’ve got.”

 

“Fries,” Keith sighs, long and mournful. Shiro echoes the sigh with a wry grin.

 

“What about you? What would you do?”

 

Keith exhales a quick chuckle, “I’d order the biggest pizza I can and eat the whole thing by myself in 20 minutes.”

 

Laughing, Shiro says, “Good goals.”

 

“I thought so,” Keith’s voice is laced with amusement, filling Shiro with honey-warmth, “After that, and if I don’t get sick, I’d drive to the shack and sleep my food coma off.”

 

“What if the food coma hits you first?”

 

“Then I’ll just find a good tree to take a nap in.”

 

That has Shiro chortling, “ _In_  a tree?”

 

“It’s pretty comfortable, don’t knock it till you’ve tried it.”

 

Shaking his head, Shiro presses a kiss against Keith’s hairline. Smiling away at the stars above them long after the conversation drifts into a comfortable, and easy silence.

 

It’s only when Keith starts dozing off that Shiro breaks the silence by gently suggesting they call it a night. Keith nods, straightening up while holding onto Shiro’s hand. They keep their fingers linked as they make their way to their lodgings, shoulders bumping every other step. And Shiro squeezes their hands together to catch Keith’s attention before he says, “We _will_  go back to Earth. One day.”

 

Keith’s answering smile is gentle. Filled with pained fondness and warm love. It’s like a piece of dark chocolate melting on his tongue. His gloves palm cups Shiro’s cheek, strokes a soft line that makes Shiro blinks. The pale aqua night lights highlight Keith's haunted expression. 

 

“Don’t make promises you can’t keep Takashi.”

 

“I don’t make promises I can’t keep,” Shiro gently corrects Keith, leaning in to press their foreheads together. “I promise we’ll go back to Earth. All of us.”

 

It’s okay to hope, Shiro wants to tell Keith when he reads the clear conflict in his eyes. It’s okay to want that lofty, far out of reach dream. For Shiro, there’s no such thing as an unachievable dream anyways.

 

“Tell you what,” Shiro murmurs, dragging his nose against Keith’s, “I’ll do all the hoping for us and you can be the…I don’t know. The realist. How about that?”

 

A quick, short laugh bubbles out of Keith, brushing against Shiro’s smile like the first touch of cotton candy, “Okay,” Keith agrees, eyes twinkling. 

 

Grinning back, Shiro seals the deal with a kiss and thinks of Pop Rocks, Rainbow candy strips, and Willy Wonka Nerds. “Okay then.”


End file.
